


MI6 - Last Drabble Writer Standing

by CorpusInvictus



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-22 12:35:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6079560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorpusInvictus/pseuds/CorpusInvictus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My entries for the LDWS competition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Queries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one game James relishes losing.

“Quentin?”

“You’ve asked that one before.”

“You might have lied.”

“Ah, but that would be breaking the rules.”

“And you never do that.”

“And I certainly didn’t learn it from you.”

“Mm. Quinn?”

“You don’t think it actually starts with Q?”

“Would’ve been convenient.”

“Well. It doesn’t.”

“Something distracting you?”

“Not at all.”

“Horace.”

“You- mmm! You must be joking.”

“Mhm. David?”

“N-no…”

“Toby?”

“Ngh, god, not even c-close-“

“That gorgeous flush says otherwise. Oliver?”

“No, fuck, oh-!”

Low, quiet cries. Sated silence. Then:

“I thoroughly enjoy losing this game, Q.”

“Nowhere near as much as I enjoy winning, James.”


	2. Wish You Were Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Q has a postcard collection.

The postcards become a Thing. They’re never mailed; they’re snapshots sent to Q’s secure MI6 mobile, always from a different number and location, consistent only in their breathtaking scenery and in their ability to sidestep Q’s security protocols so they’ll actually appear in his inbox. He saves them all because they’re good photographs given the restrictions of a mobile camera (and because he’s a masochist who will take any part of Bond he can get): exquisite beaches in Kos, an ocean view from a Reykjavík hotel, an ash plume spouting from Fuego.

The latest one sends Q rushing home, grateful there are no missions requiring his attention and that R is capable of handling any potential impending disasters. Because the latest “postcard” is a photo of Hedy with a familiar hand scratching her regal head, shedding her long silver fur all over a pair of bespoke navy trousers. There’s a caption underneath: _I’ll bet you didn’t expect this._

His security systems are disarmed when he arrives, but he doesn’t bother reactivating them before bursting into his living room. He has so many questions. Where is Madeleine? How long has Bond been back in England? Does he know how much Q missed his smug, stupid face?

“How have you not been scratched half to death?” is what comes out of his mouth instead.

James smiles, slow and secret and half feline himself, stretched over Q’s sofa with his cat like he belongs there. “I missed you too, Q.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I, uh, named Q's cat after Hedy Lamarr, because she is a classy lady but also a brilliant one, and I felt like Q would have appreciated that.


	3. The Q Continuum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bond/Trek AU, starring our favorite Quartermaster as James’s Vulcan bondmate.

James drifts back to wakefulness, not to klaxons blaring or the sharp twang of phasers piercing the shields, but to the sensation of fingers stroking along his own in a sweet, sensual kiss. He smiles, feeling the low thrum of his bondmate in the back of his mind even before he opens his eyes to take in the warm, affectionate face looming over his own. “Morning, ashayam,” he rasps.

(It feels more personal than the strange moniker he usually goes by. “Perhaps someday you’ll tell me your full name,” James had mused once.

“Perhaps someday when humans are capable of enunciating it,” Q had quipped right back. “Have you ever heard Ambassador Spock’s full name?”

“S’chn T’gai Spock,” James had recited, pronunciation flawless.

“Yes. Well. You still aren’t getting mine yet.” It wasn’t often that James was able to truly fluster Q, and he treasured the memory.)

“T’hy’la,” Q murmurs back, the usual clipped precision stripped from his voice, the timbre soft and intimate instead. He ducks down for a more human kiss, and James swears he tastes the desert every time Q licks into his mouth. He curls his free hand into the lush mop of Q’s non-regulation haircut, thumb ghosting over the delicate point of an ear before his wrist is pinned over his head. James can struggle all he likes - and he does, just a bit, just for show - but he knows how much strength is hidden in Q’s deceptively slender frame. Q could break him if he really wanted to.

He never will. James has utter faith in that as Q arches a single sharp eyebrow at him. “Hands to yourself, James,” he purrs at him. “I have plans for you.”

For once, James simply lies back and allows his bondmate to spoil him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt for this particular week was trope reversal, and I tried to use several here. First, the notion of an affectionate Vulcan, which goes against the usual Trek tropes. Second, the notion of Q being physically stronger than Bond and using that strength to his advantage. And third, the notion that Q might want to spoil Bond rather than the other way round as is more generally portrayed in 00Q fiction.
> 
> Writing this made me want to write an entire crossover to go with it. Thank goodness for the word count restrictions or I would have waxed poetic about Captain M and her badass crew for pages and pages.


End file.
